


The Foundling

by Moonlight_Talon



Category: Goblin Slayer (Anime), Goblin Slayer (Manga), Goblin Slayer - Kagyu Kumo, Goblin Slayer Side Story Year One, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adoption, F/M, Foundlings, Friendship, Goblin Slayer Year One - Freeform, Goblin Slayer is a Foundling, OP Goblin Slayer, Parenthood, Primarily a Goblin Slayer fiction, The Armorer meets Goblin Slayer, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_Talon/pseuds/Moonlight_Talon
Summary: A common tale: Another village destroyed by goblins. It would never be anything more than that. However what if fate had it so that there was someone else who met the champion who only slays goblins? Aspects from Mandalorian and Goblin Slayer Year One.
Relationships: Cow Girl & Goblin Slayer (Goblin Slayer), Cow Girl/Goblin Slayer (Goblin Slayer), undecided tbh
Kudos: 13





	1. Origins: Foundling

Life in the village was simple.

He would be ten within a matter of days, one year closer to becoming an adventurer.

The only worries he had was to stay within his sister's sight and keep himself out of trouble. He did not worry if he would have to go the day without a filled belly, nor did he have to worry about the dangers that lurked beyond the flimsy fences that surrounded his village.

Occasionally, he would be asked to help his older sister out with her duties, whether it be laundry or cleaning around the house that their parents had left behind. Some of the elderly would ask for his help, perhaps because they had missed their own sons who were conscripted to fight the 'Demon Lord's' armies.

The only worry he had on his mind was when he would apologize to his dear friend, who he had hurt with his own words.

Life in the village _was_ simple.

Like the strike of lightning on the stormiest of days, the vermin came from the shadows, their green horde upon them in a matter of moments, sweeping across the once peaceful village.

Dozens of pained and horrified cries broke through the once tranquil night. Flames roared as they devoured everything within their path. The metallic stench of blood and the charred aroma of burnt flesh quickly followed.

Just as quickly, his sister had spirited him away to a different room. She barred the door and deftly moved the rug to the side. She removed the panel of wood from the ground, to reveal a hole small enough for him.

She told him to go into it, and after that, she handed him a box.

"Whatever you do, do not leave this spot."

She had told him as if the world around them did not exist. His older sister was always great in a crisis.

He wanted to beg her to try and hide with him. He wanted to convince her that they could run, they could escape.

But no words came out.

"I'll be fine." She told him with that smile. Her face, unwavering, and unyielding.

The door was beginning to give out.

He did not fight against his sister's wishes, for she had never been wrong.

Hiding within the space underneath the floorboards, all he could hear was the resistance, the ferocity of his sister before she too was subjected to the fate that had befallen the rest of the village.

That had been three days ago.

His sister ceased to exist, much like his parents eight years ago after the plague.

The boy carefully crawled from the spot his sister had left him in. If she was still here, she would be outraged, perhaps even furious for disobeying her advice for his safety.

But the sister he knew was no longer here to hold his hand.

As he moved, he felt his trousers were soiled from the waste he released the day prior, and his clothes grimed up by the dried blood which had trickled down from the floorboard above.

He was uncertain whether it was his sisters or the vermins.

The comfort of his clothes now was the least of his concerns, his attention now focused on the sensation of his legs, having become stiff from his days of immobility.

Observing his home… no… the _ruins_ of the building, he noticed an urn, broken open by the chaos of the days gone by. He waited a moment, hearing the sounds of those dreadful creatures. From the sounds, he could assume they were a distance away.

Deciding it was safe enough to move, he shakily made his way to it. He moved slowly as possible to prevent them from hearing, but once he made it to it, he dunked his head in like a pig to the trough.

He never knew that water could taste this delicious just as it is.

Once he had his fill of water, he went back to the hole, sitting beside it. His sister had once told him that the soil around here was edible, so he was fortunate to not have gone hungry in her absence.

Taking another glance around the room while he chewed on the soil, he noticed the desecration of the ruin that was once home.

Their father's bow, the one which his sister had promised to teach him to use, was no more. It was reduced to nothing more than split twine and broken splinters below the spot where it was once hung.

Their mother's medicine bag had been torn open, and whatever was not taken was simply scattered in the area around it.

He could not remember their faces, and with the remnants of their belongings defiled, they were nothing more than strangers to him in everything but name and memory.

Then he remembered the last item brought to him by his sister. Bringing the box to him, he felt tears well up as he hugged the box as if it was his very sister.

He had seen what those _monsters_ had done to her. What else could he do?

Opening the box, he finally saw what was in it. It was his father's dagger.

He had seen it many times over, the handle made of the skinned hide of a once dangerous creature, along with the blade shaped like a hexagon, a rectangle hole within the blade.

Apparently, it would never rust or grow dull, this dagger was probably worth more than the entire village.

His sister had told him that their father had told her to give it to him when he was old enough to use it properly.

His sadness slowly turned to rage. He wanted to scream, but what good would that do for him?

Hiding the dagger on his person, he looked for anything that might be of use to him.

After one last sweep, he found his sister's purse, which was filled with coin, how much he did not know. If he escaped, it would suffice.

He peaked out of the shattered door, making sure that none of those beasts were around.

Once sure of his surroundings, he began to sneak out of the ruins of this village. He quickly noticed the sky, its reddish-black hue grimly above.

 _Is it dawn or dusk?_ He questioned, not knowing the time of day.

Deciding it would be revealed to him if he kept on moving, he decided to continue doing just that.

Hugging the wall closely, he eventually made it to the end of his friend's house next door. He peeked around the corner and saw what should have made him sick to the stomach.

Hung up where the swing he and his friend once played on, he saw friends' mother and father, bodies desecrated and defiled just like everything else in this God's forsaken town.

_What about her, I wonder?_

He wanted to look around the ruins for her, but he was not sure he wanted to know the answer if she _was_ here. He then remembered that she had gone to her uncle's farm the day this had happened, and by carriage too. If she had come back, the carriage wreckage would be nearby. If there was no wreckage, it meant that no one had come by.

Which meant that everyone knew that the village had been attacked by _goblins_. Everyone knew and no one came.

In the distance, he could hear the cackling of those friends, next to a roaring campfire. They were enjoying themselves with the supplies they had _stolen_ from his neighbors.

He wanted to charge them with the dagger he had recently acquired, to _kill_ them, to _make them pay_ for what they did. The only thing that stopped him was the weariness he felt in his body. He was weak, and they would only laugh before killing him with the very dagger his sister gifted to him.

 _The road._ He thought as he looked towards it. _It will lead me to town… right?_

Slowly, he made his way to the gate. He knew the village path would lead him to the town road, and from there he could get to the town. He had never been to town before, but his sister had told them that they would go one day.

The sky above just kept on turning darker as his slow movements got even more sluggish.

_I can't stop… not now…_

He collapsed, soon reduced to a crawl. It was the only thing he could do now, not caring to take a last glance at the places he had happily chased his friend around once.

After what felt like, and most likely was, hours of crawling, he could see the main fence that marked the edge of the village.

One time, he had convinced his pink-haired friend to follow him to the edge of the village, to get a glimpse of the outside world. He did reach it with her, but he did not know his sister had been trailing them and was wholly reprimanded for his action.

He would leave the village without his older sister by his side, because of these abominations which have ravaged and despoiled the village which he once called home.

"GROOOB?"

"GROBGROB! GRO!"

He could see a pair of goblins at the gate, crude spears made of salvaged metals and knives from the kitchens of these homes.

They appeared to be just as tall as he was, but they were more vile and terrible than he.

He knew this as fact for he had seen their atrocities first hand.

They were standing guard, just like the adults that did so days before.

He quickly tried to think of any way around them.

 _No there isn't._ He thought to himself.

The only way was through them.

_Think… what would my sister do?_

Distract them with something was what came to mind. Looking around, he saw a rock which he could throw.

He snuck closer to the exit, laying low to the foliage, keeping his breathing steady.

Before their eyes could land on him, he tossed the rock in an area opposite of him.

They became alert almost immediately after the rock hit the ground.

"GROBBGRO?" One pointed its spear towards the sound.

"GROBGROBGRO!" The other began to walk towards it.

Sneaking around the one, advancing, he exhaled once he was close enough.

Unsheathing the dagger, he could tell the one by the gate had noticed the glisten in the moon.

With a burst of energy, he lunged at it.

"GRO—" The goblin shout was cut off by the diamond-shaped dagger piercing straight through its makeshift armor, like a knife through butter.

Pulling the knife out of the goblin's chest, he could hear the other one rushing towards him.

 _It's now or never!_ He dodged to the right and pushed his dagger forward towards the goblin's unarmored head.

"OB—" This goblin too felt the retributive justice in the form of his sister's gift.

The goblin collapsed in front of him, and he took the dagger out of its face. Seeing it filled him with more rage. So much so that he could not help but stab it over and over again, until his hands and the dagger were greased up with blood.

He tried to stand up, but soon felt the pain in his side. Looking down, it seemed that the makeshift spear grazing his side, blood beginning to dirty his clothes further.

To make matters worse, he was not exactly silent with his dealing here, and could hear the sounds of more goblins shuffling over towards him.

Looking up at the dual moons, he tried to run now, but completely out of steam now, he only made it a few more steps before collapsing again.

He looked down at the dagger, his vision slowly becoming blurrier.

 _This is the end, big sis…_ He accepted his fate as the shouting of the goblins became more recognizable. He closed his eyes as the sounds of bows stringing could be heard. _I'm sorry…_

The arrows flew into the air, and for a moment, he swore he could see his sister reaching out for him, perhaps to greet him.

The arrows never reached him, for he was not their target.

As swift as the wind, something ran past him.

The pinging of an arrow on armor could be heard as the goblins frantically cried. The sounds of flesh being pulverized as he opened his eyes, forcing himself to consciousness for only seconds longer.

Shuffling his body to his savior, he could see a helmet with a visor in the shape of a 'T', one that shone like brass in the light of the moon, along with a brown breastplate made of metal, a bloodied hammer at this person's side.

The stranger put their hand out as if they were trying to help him up, and he put his hand in theirs, only for him to fade out of consciousness.

…

Opening his eyes, he could feel the warmth of a fire nearby. He could clearly smell the bitter aroma of herbs and poultices. He could not tell what time of day it was, for it seemed that he was somewhere roofed. Even felt the chill of a wet rag upon his forehead.

If he had not known better, he would have believed that the events that had occurred were nothing more than a fever dream, and that his sister would warmly greet him with that stew he loved so much.

But he knew what the world was like now.

It was cruel. It was unforgiving. It would chew you up and spit you right back out without another glance.

If it could do that to his older sister, who did no wrong, than it would certainly do that to him.

He did not think too much of events prior, figuring that dwelling on it would only hinder him, so he focused on what he could remember, the goal he set out to do before his untimely unconsciousness. _I need to get to town._

Moving his arms, he tried to push himself up. To his misfortune however was met with a surge of agony.

His arms felt like they were on fire and his legs refused to obey his desire to move. His body felt exhausted, as if he had not slept for a whole moon.

The boy felt his side burn up with discomfort as well, soon realizing the wrappings on him.

Now that he had a slightly better view of himself, he noticed that he was not wearing his clothing anymore, but covered in a series of wrappings and other bandages.

He quickly noticed by a nearby stump, his belongings sat in a nice pile, as if they had been washed and laundered recently.

"You're finally awake." Footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the room. As the armored individual got closer, the figure knelt to his level, a bowl in hand. "Drink."

"Who are you?" He asked the stranger, not taking the bowl just yet.

"Your savior." The individual replied, no changes in their voice. "It will make you feel better."

"What is it?" He managed to sit up, proper now, trying to ignore the pain.

"It is a healing drink." The helmeted individual sat on a stump next to him. "It will help with your wounds."

Looking down at it, it looked quite like the tea his sister had once given him when he had fallen out of the tree in the village.

He brought the bowl up to his mouth, and began to drink. In the first sip, he could feel the bitterness rush into his mouth, almost causing him to flinch away from the bowl. He continued to drink it, and stomached the taste until it was done.

Looking into the now empty bowl, he was reminded how his sister would sugar his medicine to keep him from turning his nose.

"You put up an impressive fight a week ago." The rounded holes of the helmet turned to him. Despite how the light of the fire seemed to make their figure wholly visible, the inside of their helmet remained as dark as the night sky. "Your form however needs work."

He remained silent, putting the bowl to the side. _It has been a week._

"I looked around the ruins while you rested." The stranger stated. "I killed any stragglers, and looked for survivors."

The fact that he was the only one in this area proved that the was the only one alive.

"Why did you save me?" He asked, his eyes focused on the open flame.

"By creed I could not leave a child to whatever fate befell them." The figure picked up his father's dagger.

"Hey!" He quickly reached out towards her, the throbbing pain in his side preventing him from retrieving his last memento of his family. With anger he spoke. "Give that back!"

The stranger lightly tapped the dagger on the chest plate of their armor, and the cling echoed throughout the entirety of the shelter. "Where did you acquire this?"

"Its mine!" He growled, as he reached towards her. His continued his attempts to take back what was his were futile.. "My sister told me it was my fathers."

"Is your father still alive?" The individual turned to him, with some interest in her voice. "Or anyone of your family I can deliver you to?"

His anger faded as it was replaced with sadness. His father and mother had been dead for years, and his sister died for his safety.

There was no one to take him in.

He _had_ no one.

"No." Lowering his arm, he clenched his fists. "Those goblins saw to that."

"I see." The individual sounded as if they understood. Sheathing the dagger, the individual twirled its handle to him. "Then by creed, I am charged with your care until you are of age, just as my founder did for me."

Slowly taking the dagger back, he hugged it close to his chest.

"Why?" He looked up to her, his scarlet eyes focused onto her.

"This is the way."


	2. Origins: Trial

The boy traveled with the stranger for what felt like all four corners of the world.

They traveled by night and rested during the day, cloaked all the time.

He had soon learned that his savior was female, by comparing her physique to adventurers they passed on the paths they walked.

He would trail behind the warrior as they spoke of where to find berries that would not make you sick, or how to properly prepare water to drink. Whenever she spoke, he listened, absorbing everything like a wilted flower desperate for life.

When asking the stranger where their destination was, she would simply point towards the mountains in the distance.

"East." Was the common response.

His guardian did not let him go hungry. Whenever the two rested to eat, she would ensure that he had taken at least one bite before beginning to eat her meal.

When they reached the base of the mountain, she gave to him her fur pelt and ensured that he stayed warm.

As they got higher, the colder it got, and the heavier the snow fell. It wasn't too long until the snow reached up to his hips, forcing him to shuffle close behind, for her path made it easier to traverse the harsh terrain.

"We are here."

Peeking from behind her, he saw it. A keep built within the side of the mountain.

"It has been here since our people first came to this side of the world." She began to move forward, and he followed.

As they walked to the side of the drawbridge, the head of an ancient beast could be seen high above.

" _Tion'cuy!_ " The eyes of the large skeleton lit up with a red hue as they approached, a mighty voice calling towards them in a tongue as ancient as the fort itself.

" _Ibic beskar'gam goran, allit Tracyn'draco_ " The woman called out, her right shoulder towards the front, the distinct head of a dragon emblazed on it.

" _Olarom yaim Mando'ade_ " The eye sockets of the skull darkened for a moment before they once again pulsated, this time with a yellow glow. The gate soon stirred to life, the bridge lowering for them.

Turning to him, she had her hand out for him to grab. "Come."

Taking her hand once more, they stepped foot into the keep, the bridge closed right behind them.

Walking through the keep, they passed by many rooms, all of which seemed to be abandoned.

"Where is everyone?"

"This is an ancient stronghold." She began. "Only a few remember of its existence now."

"I see." A simple response from the boy.

They walked for a few minutes longer before they reached a door, twice the size of all the others, and right above it was the same skull that was outside.

This one, however, was not made of bone, rather a shiny reflective metal. When she walked up to the door, it opened as if it recognized her presence.

" _Olarom Beskar'gam goran._ " The metal skull's eyes lit up a shade of yellow as she entered.

Following behind her, he saw a grand sight.

This room was easily the size of five of the houses within his old village, perhaps even more. The size of the forge itself was at least the height of a wagon, and two in width. Flames shot up from the forge, with an intensity like none other that he could feel as he got closer.

From here he could see a large cauldron filled with a liquid, unsure what it was.

"Sit." She beckoned to a seat a few paces in front of the forge.

As he did that, he could see her unstrapping a leather-skin wrap she had been carrying. The hammer was not only her weapon but a tool of her trade, that of which was the trade of a smith.

"Tell me, boy, have you ever heard of the people known as the Mandalorians?"

He thought for a moment before replying. "No."

"Our people have been on the decline for centuries now." She pulled out what looked like a cabinet drawer with a pole attached to it. "I will tell you the history of our people."

She placed a single type of metal into the container. From here, he could see a wavy pattern, almost that of silver, but the metal was unknown to him.

"We did not start as Mandalorians." She began to speak, placing the crucible over the flames, the sounds of hissing as the metal began to melt. "We were once a nomadic people, our only skill being that of warfare. We offered our services to the people who did not see the glory in battle as we did."

There was a pause as she moved across the room, opening a few drawers and pulled out what looked like a mold or cast of sorts.

"Thousands of years later, the First _Mand'alor_ proved his meddle to the clans and united us, his ways leading us to victory. After the _Mand'alor_ 's passing, we follow his example by adhering his way, the Way of the Mandalore." Placing the mold in a metal cylinder, she adjusted it so it would be tightly sealed. "Those that came after created the Canons of Honor and the Six Tenets. An honorable code made by honorable warriors."

Once the molten metal began to bubble, she poured it into the cast, the sounds of the molten metal hissing echoing within the chamber once again.

"Every _Mand'alor_ after him strived to uphold the honor of our people."

He said nothing, simply taking in her words.

"As time passed, many lost their way, strayed from the Way and the other beliefs our people held dear, and became _dar'manda_." After a few moments, she untightened the cylinders, and using the tongs, she pulled out a sheet of hot metal. "They became nothing more than bandits in their ancestral armors."

Moving it to a ball-shaped anvil, she began to strike it, each hit filled with meaning and purpose.

"Those who stayed true to the _manda_ fought a long crusade against the _dar'manda_ , and eventually we were triumphant." She continued to shape the metal. "This was to be a short-lived victory."

She moved the metal to the flame again, heating it before bringing it back to the metal orb, the ringing of metal echoing throughout the chamber as her tools shaped the metal.

"The realms had grown tired of our warring, and sought to subjugate us, and destroy us." Her grip tightened on the hammer as she looked at the shape. "We did not lose, nor did we win… we _survived._ "

A few hours went by as she worked; her silence marked by her focus on her craft, the once forceful hammering turning into light taps as the helmet became more rounded and defined. She then dunked it in a liquid, the sounds of hissing coming from the container.

"And here the cycle continues, my sponsor brought me here when I was a foundling." She reached for a series of smaller tools and began to carefully chisel something within the inside rim of the helmet. "Now I am here as your founder, to raise you as my own."

She put the tools to the side, picking up the helmet she walked over to him. Kneeling so that her head was level with his, she presented the helmet to him.

"I see the same fire in your eyes that my founder saw in me." Her visor was level with his eyes. "I can teach you the ways of our people so that you may strike back at those that have wronged you."

Taking the helmet from her, it was surprisingly light. Looking into the helmet, he could see a series of words engraved into it, however, its meaning was lost on him, for it was in a script he was not taught.

"Regardless of your choice, I cannot force you down the path of a warrior." She added, soon putting her hands on his shoulders. "And by creed, I will still watch over you until you are old enough to care for yourself. This is the Way."

Turning the helmet upside up now, his attention was now focused on the visor, its distinctive 'T' shape different from hers.

"This is the Way." He looked straight back into her visor, echoing her words.

Lifting it above his head, he slowly lowered the helmet onto his head. Then he felt the enchantment take effect and for a moment there was darkness.

…

It had been nearly five years ago.

So much had changed since then.

Opening his eyes, he could see torchlight peaking from underneath the door. Getting up from his spot, his scarlet eyes scanned around the dwelling he was assigned.

It was a relatively spartan room, a cot pushed into one corner, a desk on the opposite side, and a stand that had his full set of armor. A mirror was there to check if the armor was correctly placed.

Getting up, he walked over to the mirror, looking himself up and down. No longer was he the small boy that could not defend himself. His _cabur_ , his guardian had seen to it.

His body was toned, and few faint scars remained on his bare body, his hand running over a few of them. These had been dealt during their fights with real blades. The scar on his side was still there, but it became fainter with every passing year.

His hand then went to his head. Earlier this year, his hair had started to turn grey, at the scalp, and now it was fully grey. When he asked her, she was unsure what might have caused it, for this is the first time she's heard of it.

First, he put on a gambeson made of leather, and soon after he looked to the set of armor.

It was made of a special alloy that his mentor had made, 'durasteel' she had called it. Apparently it was lighter than normal steel but still heavier than the _beskar_ helmet he wore.

Putting on each piece of armor, he did a once over each piece, his hand caressing the metal before it being equipped onto his person.

Most of it looked like standard plate armor, save for the helmet and chest plate. The helmet being made of _beskar_ had a powerful enchantment cast onto it, one of its uses served as a pitch-black barrier between his face and the outside world.

The chest plate was relatively standard in terms of armor, but it had the _Beskaryc Kar'ta_ as it was a traditional emblem of the Mandalorian culture.

His training had been occurring every day since his arrival, his _cabur_ planned out each day according to the Six Tenets, the _Resol'nare_.

 _Bajur._ Education. Although he had been mostly taught by his older sister about the basics, the one who saved him taught him more. She taught him the history of their culture, the Six Tenets, the Canons of Honor, and The Way of the Mandalore. She taught him what he would need to know, ranging from the basics of each language to the practical knowledge to survive off the land.

 _Beskar'gam._ The 'Iron Skin'. Before this, he knew nothing of armor. Now he knew what his was made of, how to maintain it. Even how to properly sleep in it. He was taught that the metal known as _Beskar_ was simply the metal known as adamantine, just smelted down into its purest form by technique only the Mandalorians knew.

 _Ara'nov._ Self Defense. A staple of the Mandalorian people was their renown in combat, whether it be alongside regulars or a lone individual, songs of ages bygone tell how a single Mandalorian had no equal, and an army of them could change the tide of any conflict. He was taught all forms of combat, whether it be unarmed or armed.

 _Aliit._ Tribe… clan. To a Mandalorian, their strength is his clan. Family was not determined solely by blood, but by the relationship with that member. His founder had proved this when she had taken him in after finding him on the exit of his town, bleeding out.

 _Mando'a_. Their language. As secretive as that of the ancient druids, their language was a tongue that flowed like a battle, its roots having been taken from all languages that existed. A master of the forge could imbue these words with the magical properties that the roots had contained.

 _Mand'alor_. Their Sole Ruler. The rightful leader of the Mandalorian people, the chief of all clans. Whoever they might be, when they call for aid, all true Mandalorians must rally behind their cause, for they had the strength and vision to manifest their will into reality.

The last _Mand'alor_ had not been seen in over one hundred years.

As he finished tightening his greaves to his legs, he picked up the _beskar_ helmet, looking at the 'T' shaped visor. It had remained mainly unchanged, despite the instance from his mentor to make the helmet more of his own.

Putting it on, the enchantment activated immediately, having been attuned to him.

Then a knock on his door caught his attention.

"Are you up?" The voice of his founder was heard.

"Yeah _._ " He responded, walking up to the door unlocking it. Opening it, she stood in front of him. "What is it?"

" _Kemir ti ni._ " The woman beckoned with her hand, gauntlet clinking as she moved. "Walk with me."

With a nod, he got up right beside her.

"Where are we going?" He turned his head to her. He stood only half a head taller than her.

"You are shaping up to be a fine _Mando_." She began as they walked along the ancient halls of this fortress. "But you are still… _evaar'la_ … young."

"Am I?" He responded, genuinely question in his voice.

"I believe so." She responded, amusement in her voice. "I have taught you much in the past few years, skills that will last you a lifetime."

She continued to walk forward, her eyes not turning to him.

"When I was a foundling, I went with my founder on the _verd'goten._ " Her helmet tilted towards him. "Today we will be partaking in the custom."

" _Verd'goten_?" He tilted his head.

"Yes, today you will lead in the hunt." She told him. "Think of it as a test of your skills. Now we will first eat, and then collect your weapons for the hunt."

"Very well." The two made their way towards the dining hall.

…

He had collected what he believed he would need for the hunt.

For weapons, he had with him a sword, his _kal_ , a bundle of four javelins, a crossbow with ten bolts.

Along with that, he had brought a few days worth of rations in the chance that they are out for an extended period of time.

As he neared the keep, he could see his mentor standing by.

"There is a large variety of beasts and monsters to hunt atop these mountains." She began, turning towards the exit. "I will be beside you in the odds that the foe proves too much for you."

"Very well." With a nod, he took the lead.

They trudged through the snow that was slightly deeper than their ankles. Although it was a silent journey, he never let his mind rest.

He knew most of these mountains quite well, having walked up and down it often with his mentor. The lessons between hunting and foraging made it easier to know his way around.

 _Animals need water._ His thoughts began as he walked in a line. _Perhaps I will find tracks near the river._

That line of reasoning made enough sense to him, slightly changing his direction as he walked towards where the body of running water was.

It would not be too much longer until they reached the body of the river. From what he was told, this water came from a glacier that rested on the very peak of this mountain, and that the water would run down both sides of the mountains, making many of the creeks he had passed by at the base.

Walking alongside the river, his eyes were constantly looking for any disturbances. He knew often that animals such as elk and other animals came here for water, and sometimes for the salmon that found itself moving up against the currents.

Then he saw it. Approaching the tracks, he knelt to get a better look.

 _Four-legged… stood still while it took a drink._ Head turning towards the direction it wandered off, it seemed that it was moving up the river. _It could be ram, perhaps an elk?_

"I'd say these tracks are roughly a few hours old." He spoke aloud, getting up as he finished his assessment of the tracks. "We will follow."

"Very well." His teacher nodded.

The crisp early morning air soon became colder as they followed, the sun not having peered through the clouds. The clouds however got darker as time passed on.

 _It'll most likely snow again._ His helmet tipped upwards. _It'll be difficult to follow this animal if its tracks get covered in the snow._

Deciding to pick up the pace, he moved in the direction of the tracks, only following a few steps to the side.

As he continued forward, the pace at which the hooves were moving seem to speed up, the second set of tracks chasing after it.

Slowing down to properly observe the prints, he could see that these were that of a predatory animal.

He squatted down to it, trying to get an idea of the animal. "Looks like a wolf hmm… maybe large one."

"No." His mentor walked up beside him, pointing to the tips of each of the paw tips. "A wolf's track would have little claw marks as well."

"I see…" He looked up now, trying to recall the tracks of the region's predatory animals. "A mountain lion?"

"That is the correct predator." She now agreed with him. "Remember, because you are not actively hunting it does not mean that you should learn what it is."

"Right… _bajur_ for a Mandalorian never ends." He added thoughtfully.

"Exactly." She patted him on the back, beginning to walk past him. "Now lead on."

With a nod, he continued to track his prey as any hunter would.

The closer they got, it became clear that whatever the bigger animal was chasing was grazed, blood marking the snow more and more as they progressed.

Eventually, they reached a plateau where the two animals were as the snowfall got heavier. A short distance further was a cave entrance, which he could only assume was its home.

"There it is." He stated quietly, pointing towards a figure, his finger tracing the trail of blood towards it. The snow was bloodied and clearly disturbed as if its meal was dragged here.

"Indeed. Now hunt the beast just as our forefathers hunted the ancient mythosaur." Her helmet turned to him. " _Jate'kara_."

 _We are upwind._ He thought as he prepared the crossbow, remembering what his sister had told him about hunting. _The wind should cover my approach._

Slowly moving into the clearing, he got closer to the beast. Lifting his crossbow he took a deep breath in as he aimed.

Clearly, the creature was eating its fill, was unaware of the hunter that approached closer to it.

Deciding that this was the best spot to begin his attack, he pulled the trigger, the bolt flying where he believed to be the neck.

With a growl the creature stopped eating, turning to him. That is when he noticed that this was not just any mountain lion. Its jaws had two teeth at least the size of his forearm.

 _That's not a normal mountain lion._ The foundling looked at his supposed prey. He tossed the crossbow to the side as he pulled a javelin from the bundle strapped to his back. _No matter._

The creature growled before the javelin stabbed straight into its side.

This action did not please the creature, and after it managed to pull it out of its side, it erupted with rage in the form of a roar.

He managed to ready another javelin as it charged at him. Instead of throwing it, however, he decided to use it as an improvised spear, stabbing straight into the larger beast as it got into range.

This was partially successful, as the javelin did hit its mark, but not without emerging unscathed. With that lunge, he had attempted to move out of the way towards the left, but the beast had managed to swipe at his right arm, digging its claws into the pauldrons.

Although his upper arm was lightly injured, the pauldron was rent open.

 _I can't let it get another hit on me._ He could see the damaged metal in his peripherals. _The chance it will kill me will be high._

Drawing his sword now, he made some distance while the creature removed the second javelin embedded in its flesh.

As the two were circling each other, the snow became denser and heavier, his scarlet eyes locked onto the amber eyes of this beast despite how much the snow was now obscuring his view.

Using the snow as a cloak, he quickly reached into the pouch attached to his belt.

 _Water._ Not handy here. _Firestarter._ If he had more time to prepare, he might have been able to use it. _Potion and various medicine._ Treatment of wounds happens after the battle. _Spices._ Although he did not mind the blandness of travel rations, his mentor always recommended for him to bring them along.

For a few seconds, he thought of the options he had, then he acted.

With a surge of energy, he made the first move and charged the beast. The beast mimicked his movements and ran towards him.

What the beast had not been expecting was for the pouch of spice, which promptly erupted into its face upon impact.

With a howl of pain, it began to panic as it tried to remove the foreign irritants from its senses, blindly swiping in whatever direction.

He felt the claws of the beast scrape across his chest plate, to his luck, only a glancing hit.

 _Now, this is my chance._ He had to take this opportunity. The boy quickly jumped onto its back, using his left hand to hold where the crossbow bolt had embedded itself. It did not take long for his blade to become slick with blood as he furiously slashed into its side.

The beast did not allow for him to remain atop of it unperturbed and made multiple efforts to buck off the unwanted rider. With a mighty buck, it managed to throw the young man forward, causing him to roll before landing on his stomach.

Slightly dazed from the sudden tumble, he could see his sword a short distance in front of him, and a bit past that the beast, which was now bleeding quite badly and breathing heavier.

With a grunt, he tried to scramble for it, but just as he reached for it with his left arm, the jaws of the beast bit down on his durasteel gauntlet, his arm narrowly avoided by the larger pair of teeth.

Using his right arm, he tried to reach for a javelin, but it seemed that they had fallen out sometime during his rodeo on the back of this beast.

He did not doubt the protective capabilities of his durasteel gauntlet, but he could feel the creature's interior fangs beginning to push down harder. He knew he needed to finish this fight now.

Reaching for his belt now, he unsheathed his _kal_ , and with all of his strength, he thrust the blade into the neck of the beast. With this action, its eyes widened with pain as it gripped harder, its teeth now slowly pushing through the metal.

It soon began to violently thrash around with desperation, bringing more pain to his arm. But he did not falter, he endured through the pain, his only goal to continue pushing his blade forth.

After what seemed like hours of pushing, the jaw of the beast loosened. Taking his hand off the dagger, he pried the mouth of the dead beast open with his remaining hand.

His right hand was slicked in blood, making it difficult to collect his _kal_ from the corpse of the beast.

Reaching into his pouch, he took out the potion. Uncorking it with his mouth, he downed the contents, the pain dulling in his left arm.

"It's done!" He called out, he got up from the snowy ground, exhausted from the fight.

"And so it is." He heard the voice of his mentor, approaching with the sound of crunching snow. "A spectacular fight, I was almost tempted to intervene."

He prepared to speak again, but he was halted, her hand with a flask.

"Drink, it will give you energy." She moved back to the creature. "I'll drag this in the cave, focus on your health first."

With a nod, he took the flask and downed it as quickly as he had done with his other potion. Its bitter aftertaste was just a thought in the back of his mind as he felt the energy slowly return his body.

Moving towards the bloodied-up weapons, he attempted to wipe them down before sheathing them and headed for the cave.

…

It had been a few hours since he had entered the cave, his wounds now bandaged. The weather outside worsened quite quickly after he slew the beast, the sounds of the wind howling as clumps of snow fell from the sky.

He had remained quiet and still since his founder had told him to rest.

"What was that beast?" He asked, looking at her.

"It was a saber-tooth." She responded, as water boiled over the fire. "I had believed those creatures to be long gone."

"Huh." He thought about it as he looked at the dead beast.

"Much quicker than my _verd'goten._ " She stated with a hint of humor. "I spent a week on this mountain before finding my mark."

"Is that so?" He asked, his helmet turning to her.

"It is." She stated, before handing him a cup of tea. "It will make a distinguished signet for your clan."

"My clan?" He took a sip from the beverage.

"Yes." She informed him. "Every Mandalorian has the right to form his or her own clan, and your signet for when you have a clan of your own."

"I see…" He thought to himself, looking away. Could he even think about starting a clan, after everything that has happened?

"Tell me, when are we permitted to take off our helmets?" His mentor broke him from his thoughts.

"Never in the presence of another living being." He stated, the belief having been in most texts he had read at his time here.

But that response got a rise from her.

"Only ancient texts talk of that form of extremism." She took a seat next to the fire. "As you have completed the _verd'goten_ , you are ready to be on your own."

He remained silent as he looked at her.

Her cup rested in her hands as she looked down into it. "There is only one final lesson I can pass onto you, _Ner ad_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mandalorian words and phrases
> 
> Tion'cuy! - Halt! Who goes there?"
> 
> Ibic beskar'gam goran, allit Tracyn'draco - I am the armor blacksmith, clan Fire-Dragon
> 
> Olaram yaim Mondo'ade- Welcome home, Mandalorian.
> 
> Manda- the collective soul or heave. The state of being mandalorian in mind, body, and spirit- also supreme, overarching, guardian like
> 
> Dar'manda- the state of not being mandalorian. not an ousider but one who has lost his heritage and so his identity and soul. Worst thing to be considered by traditional mandalorians
> 
> Mand'alor- Sole Ruler
> 
> Cabur- guardian
> 
> Bajur- education
> 
> Beskar'gam - Iron skin, but references armor
> 
> Ara'nov- self defense
> 
> Mando'a- Mandalorian language
> 
> Kermir ti ni- Walk with me
> 
> evaar'la- youthful
> 
> Verd'goten- Mandalorian rite of passage coming of age type of trial, "Warriors Trial"
> 
> Ner ad- My son.


	3. The Frontier

"Hey!" The cheery voice of the young girl called out as she waved to her friend as he sat on the fence. He returned a wave as he sat there, his hair drooping over his eyes.

She had known him her entire life, and by extension they were friends. Whether it was because he enjoyed her company or because she was the only other child here was unknown to her, but she enjoyed the time spent with her companion.

She ran up to him, her rosy eyes twinkled with glee as she got closer.

"Guess what? I'm going to town tomorrow! I'm gonna help on Uncle's farm!"

Despite her excitement, her friend did not share the same sentiment, his foot tapping on one of the beams.

"Neat, huh? I'm going all by myself!" She put her hands together, a wide smile on her face. "You've never been to town, have you?"

The tapping only got faster, his little frame tensing up as she continued to gush of her venture, but she did not notice over her own enthusiasm.

"My mother even gave me some money to spend!" She looked up to him now, her eyes glistening with delight. "Maybe I could get you something!"

"I don't want anything!" He shouted at her, jumping down from the fence, finally voicing his discontent.

She did not remember what they had said, but she remembered she had yelled back, and he only responded louder than her.

This back forth continued, even as the tears welled up in both of their eyes.

Then his sister came and took him back to their home, and her mother took her back to her own.

Only an hour later, she would be put into the cart that her uncle had brought by, and he had not even stopped by to say goodbye.

She had wondered if he would still be angry with her for bragging about this when she got back.

She wondered if he would accept her apology when she returned.

If only she had asked him to come with.

…

The sound of the rooster's caw from afar could be heard, rousing her from her slumber. As she shuffled in her bed, she could hear someone already up and about, working in the nearby area.

With a groan, she buried her face deeper into the pillow, wistfully speaking to herself. "I'm still sleepy…"

Light glared through the closed shutter of the window of her room, nearly blinding her upon opening her eyes. With another pout, she wrapped her blanket even tighter around herself, curling up while the cold spring air settled in her bones.

After a while longer, she finally managed to drag herself out of the pallet, the blanket firmly wrapped around her bare body.

 _Need to get dressed._ She sluggishly moved towards the drawer, navigating around the mess that found itself on the floor of her dwelling.

Dropping the blanket, she began with her undergarments, donning a long grey sleeve shirt before fitting her legs into the worn overalls she had received two years ago. Slipping on the shoddy footwear, she made her way to the kitchen.

Sitting at the table in the room, she saw a pot with a thin soup in it. Putting the back of her hand to the pot, it was clear that its warmth was nearly gone.

Pouring a ladle's worth into a bowl, she set the bowl next to a basket that had rye bread in it. Breaking the loaf up into smaller bits, she dipped the chunks into the soup. Only halfway through the meal did she offer up her thanks to the gods above.

As she finished up what could be considered a meal, she slowly meandered around the immediate area, before spotting out her uncle. He was hunched over, his attention focused on the crates he was filling.

"Good morning, Uncle."

"Ah! G'morning!" A smile quickly made its way onto his face as he looked over his shoulder. He stopped what he was doing to fully turn towards her.

 _He didn't even mention I overslept._ She gently pursed her lip.

"I'm almost done with loading up these crates." His left hand gestured to the open box. "I got a few deliveries in—"

No thanks." She did not let him finish the sentence, for she knew what he was going to ask. Gently shaking her head, she somehow managed to add a smile while she told him. "I don't need to go to… to town."

"I see." Her elder frowned, brows scrunching up. "Then can you let the cows out when I leave? We need them to graze out in these open fields."

She rubbed her arm and broke eye contact, simply nodding. It was the least she could do.

"Thanks." Her uncle finished closing the crate and gave her a pat on the back before leaving.

Once he had left, she trudged over to the barn where the cows had been resting. Picking up the crook that had been leaning against the wall, the cows took immediate notice and began to follow her.

The cool of early morning had now gone as the sun reached its zenith, the warmth radiating from high above.

As she walked around, she occasionally gave the cows an encouraging beckon, or so she thought. Her voice was always seemed to be barely above a whisper.

 _I had that nightmare again._ She found herself wallowing into her thoughts as she led the cows from patch to patch. _It's been about five years now... since I came to my uncle's farm_. She stopped by the edge of the fence, the cows grazing peacefully behind her.

The road was long empty, and she could not help but find herself spiraling deeper into her mind.

 _It would be better if my uncle didn't have anything to do with me._ Her mind maliciously told spoke to her as she leaned onto the shepherd's crook, shuffling uncomfortably in the spot she stood in. _I wish I wasn't a bother to him… if I could only take care of myself._

 _I must be a disappointment._ She looked up, her eyes readjusting as she saw a caravan of young men and women walking along the road.

She must have been standing there for longer than she thought. She quickly noticed that many of them looked at her as they passed.

This made her grow red in the face, and she shied away from the attention. She was just doing her job, nothing out of the ordinary.

Her eyes slowly darted back up while her head tilted down. She could see people of all backgrounds, some with friends, family, or like her, alone.

She saw one with a sword on his hip and a determined look on his face.

 _Just like him._ She mournfully thought. _He was going to be an adventurer when he came of age… or lied about it… he was going to explore ruins and fight all sorts of monsters. Save princesses and maybe save the world…_

She could feel the tears prick at the edges of her eyes.

 _I might have joined him if he would have me…_ She closed her eyes as a tear trickled down her face. _Or I might not be here at all… like him._

 _No!_ She shook her head as she refocused herself. _I am making myself useful!_

Then, as if the gods wished to spite her optimism, she found herself off balance, the source of her woe: a rather odd stone in her path.

Nearly losing her balance completely, the crook she had been walking with flew out of her hand and it seemed that it would hit the adventurer that was closest to her.

Looking up, all she could see was the blur of silver as the individual caught the staff with relative ease.

"I'm sorry!" Barely audible, her apology came out of her mouth while she bowed towards the stranger prepared for a verbal assault, but none came as the individual gently presented the crook back to her.

Looking up at the person who caught it, she could not see their face, for they wore a shiny helmet and somewhat worn armor, probably from a faraway land. She soon realized that she had been staring at them for too long. Her face quickly becoming flush again, she quickly swiped it back from the adventurer, turning away from this stranger. "…Thanks"

"You're welcome."

The voice that sounded lost in thought politely stated, striking a chord buried deeply in the recesses of her mind. Her embarrassment had now disappeared completely, and an indescribable feeling welled up within her, the familiarity shaking her to her very core. She found herself trembling lightly as her eyes were wide open she stood frozen in the moment.

 _It can't be…_ Slowly, she turned back towards the fence, uncertain of what she would see.

No one was there now, looking down the road that led to and from town, she could not see a single person. She looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had moved a good distance from its spot.

 _There's no way…_ The pink-haired girl thought silently, holding the crook close to herself. _Maybe I imagined that…_

It was very possible, after all, he did want to be an adventurer.

She turned back to the cows, trying to resolve herself to her task once again, only now noticing that they were now scattered about the field.

 _Oh, uncles gonna have my head!_ She began to run around as she regrouped the cows, that encounter now moved to the back of her mind.

… …

"We need more registration forms here!"

"On it!"

"You! We need three bags of gold, from the safe!"

"Right away!"

"Make sure you write down how many potions you sold, they'll be balancing the books this evening."

"Yes ma'am! On it!"

"Can you warm up a pot of tea?"

"One moment!"

"Where's that map I asked for?!"

"On the shelf… I'll bring it over!"

"This paperwork is wrong! A wyrm is a dragon but a worm is a vile dirt-dweller!" Her supervisor called out, nearly causing her to drop everything she was carrying.

"I'm sorry I'll fix it right away!"

As she handed out the items requested by her seniors, she could not remember if she had ever been this busy during her training in the capital.

 _But to mistake a wyrm and a worm._ She could feel her face flush with embarrassment as she looked over the paperwork. _I could've gotten someone killed!_

She quickly rectified her mistake, actually seeing that a worm was a danger rating higher than a wyrm. As she handed her superior the quest, she glanced over it and handed it off to another before finding a stack of papers shoved into her arms.

"Oh, and I need these goblin slaying quests prepared for posting!"

"I'll get it done!" She felt her world swirling at the amount of work tasked to her. _So… many!_

A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her work-induced trance.

"How are you holding up?" The golden-haired receptionist with the most seniority looked to her, bright blue eyes filled with concern for the wellbeing of her coworker.

"Fine." The gold-eyed junior sighed as she took a seat at the desk next to her.

She looked in the monster manual provided to the staff for the entry.

 _Goblins… they are not even a danger rating one…_ She began to fill out form after form.

Goblins spotted on the outskirts of town. Goblins spotted wandering in the forest. Goblin footprints around the area. Goblins kidnapping travelers on the road. Goblins ambushing small caravans and taking prisoners.

And many more. Much _worse_. They steal livestock and crops all the time, but the guild is only involved when the town is either fed up with them or afraid that they'll show up in force.

_Not even half a danger rating… and they are everywhere._

There is a common saying that every time a group of adventurers signs up, there's a nest ready for them to take on.

 _But how many of them will actually take the quest?_ She knew that most adventurers wanted quests that brought fame or wealth. Goblin slaying often does neither.

"Hey! Don't let it get you too down!"

"Huh?" She stopped writing as she felt two fingers push into her cheeks, attempting to coax her face into a smile.

"Your work helps set things right in the world."

With a puff, she looked back down at her work. If she wanted to hear how she was helping the world, she'd much prefer it from a cleric.

As if she realized this would not work, she spoke once again. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, not yet." Her braids swayed as she shook her head. "It's been so busy…"

"If you've got the sneakiness just sneak bites between adventurers." A mischievous smile grew across her senior's face.

The newer of the two began to imagine her pulling a warm potato from the cabinet, attempting to scarf down as much as she could before she needed to work.

"There it is!" She used her fingers on her own cheeks to make a smile. "Oop, next person! Don't forget to smile!"

As her coworker moved away, she found her smile slowly fading away.

 _I'm not sure I could again…_ She had a small flashback of her time in the capital. She'd see aspiring adventurers come to their parties, and she was too friendly with them. Adventurers she considered friends never returning from their quests.

 _It's because I got too involved with them._ It was a miracle she didn't spiral down a dark path or worse. She looked down at a mirror, pushing her cheeks up to a smile. _I can't send them off with a scowl though…_

But how much was enough? It was a part of the job, but nowhere in training did it tell her how much she needed to do to be 'professional'.

She suddenly felt the odd feeling of being watched. Looking up, an adventurer in what looked like heavy armor was standing right in front of her.

"…"

Before her stood what looked like a young man in armor, but being fully covered in steel did not make it easy to tell the features. On his back, was what looked like the pelt of an animal, rolled up tightly to carry all of his belongings.

"Er-ah where are you doing today?" She was caught off guard as the adventurer stood there silently.

Her face felt flush as the embarrassment began to pile upon her. It didn't help that she couldn't see the adventurers face. Were they weirded out? Were they confused? What were they thinking?

"Ahem." She coughed into her fist, the redness slowly fading from her cheeks. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you alright?"

The sincerity had caught her off guard, throwing her off her train of thought.

She looked over to her senior, who had her hands tied with a rather close-fisted merchant caravanner.

 _Alright, focus._ She exhaled before putting up the best act of 'No, I am not bottling everything up and I do have everything under control'.

"Welcome to the Adventurers Guild! What can I help you with?"

 _Perfect!_ She boasted internally, perhaps this day would go well after all.

"If you are fine, I'd like to register."

"Right—" She swung her arm straight into the pile of goblin slaying quests she had just prepared. _Gods please just smite me where I stand…_

To her luck, she managed to prevent almost all of them from falling off the side of her counter.

"Goblins?"

The new member of the staff looked up and saw that he had a quest slip in his armored gauntlet.

"That…" It was like any quest you could find in any guildhall across the frontier. It was simple by the standards of the guild, porcelain.

"Goblins." The voice that came from the helmet seemed fixated on that word alone. A short glance later he looked back up. "I will take it."

"Uh… it'll be dangerous without a party." She looked through the monster manual. "It says here they can outnumber a party four to one!"

"Those odds don't matter to me."

She now drew blank, absolutely out of order as he was unperturbed by the danger. This was not bravado or some misplaced confidence in a young adventurer, rather faith in his own skills.

Still, it was her duty to try to avoid the unnecessary death of an adventurer.

"You can't—" She stopped speaking as soon as her hunger made itself evident. She immediately broke eye contact as she looked down at the desk in pure embarrassment.

"Is it not a goblin quest?"

His tone seemed as if he was not going to back down from it.

"Y-yes!" She hastily said, still looking down.

"Then I'll take it."

With a deep breath, she looked back up, deciding her efforts would be better focused on registering the aspiring adventurer. "Are you able to read and write?"

"I learned how to."

"Then please fill out this adventurer sheet."

She pushed to him the piece of parchment with the six boxes.

As he filled out that form, she looked around for the final item needed for registration.

_Now, where did I put those tags?_

"Looking for this?" Her coworker passed one across the desk.

With a thankful bow, she took it and waited for the sheet to be returned to her.

"Done." He stated as he handed her the sheet.

Looking at it, he could see that his name was in a script unknown to her, but everything else was written in common.

 _It's not uncommon for adventurers to write their names in their native script_. She thought as she wrote down everything. _The level tag is just copied from the adventure sheet._

She mentally repeated everything that was written down.

_Male. Fifteen years old. Scarlet eyes. White hair. Lean body type. One in fighter and one in ranger._

"There we go!" She looked up at the helmet and tried to visualize a face but to no success. "This tag is important, so please don't lose it."

He took the tag from her and stared at it for a moment. "I understand."

Quickly stowing it away, he moved towards the area where the guild shop was.

"What's with him?" The next adventurer commented as he walked up to the counter, his eyes still focused on the new adventurer as he walked out of sight. "He comes here all geared up already and acts like a real prick."

Looking at the next adventurer, his hair was a shade between blond and ginger, and a spear at his side.

"Um… Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild! How can I help you today?"

"Oh, I wanna register too."

"Of course." She began to get out the paperwork, her mind still on the boy who had just registered. _When he asked if I was alright, was it because he was worried that I hadn't eaten?_

…

If there was any season he hated the most, it had to be spring.

Sure it was good for his pockets, but he despised all the greenhorns that would come into his shop, and have the audacity to either attempt to underpay the already cheap prices, or waltzing in as if they would have something as grand as a legendary sword.

He'd seen it all. Rheas buying armor that was too big, or barbarian like individual who thought their muscles were stronger than the steel her worked.

Having been a smith for this guild for a while now, he would've thought he'd be used to it by now, but every spring, a new horde of adventurers come here, having heard tales of grandeur and fortune, and thinking that they are like them.

That they can be a hero and change the world.

Like this young greenhorn that stood in front of his counter now. The porcelain tag that hung proudly around his neck was still fresh with the enchanted ink of the front desk.

Not even a hello and he was already asking for a sword of legend or magical items.

"Let's talk about your budget first, then we'll see what I can sell you."

"That's probably a good idea." The boy rubbed the back of his head. "I want the best I can get with this!"

The brown-haired runt dropped a rather large pouch of coin on the table.

Picking it up, he emptied the purse, to see many gold coins, and among them a load more of silver and copper pieces.

"Would a sword do for you?" He walked to the back, pulling a sheathed sword. Putting it on the counter, the boy looking it over.

"It'll do." The satisfaction on this boy's face was clear.

"No shield or helmet?" The smith looked up as he handed the sword to the buyer.

"No helmet." The brown-eyed boy looked up at him. "How would people know me then?"

"Fair enough." The man stroked his beard. _Sell your face and your reputation grows quicker._ "Take a shield then."

"I've never used one before…" There was hesitance was in the young man's voice.

"Doesn't matter, could be the difference between life and death." He stated, head nodding towards the shields.

After a moment of attaching the sword to his belt, he walked over to them, causing a grin to spread on his face.

 _An adventurer that heeds the advice of his elders might have some hope._ He grunted as he turned back to work. _Many come here with worn equipment or run out without listening to a word I say, but then again, I'm not the one hired to fight the monsters_

The greenhorn seemed to be looking more at the design rather than the practicality, but it mattered not to the smith. _When the gods deem your time up, they'll take you whether you're in leather or enchanted mail._

Suddenly a man strode in with purpose. Halting at the doorway for a moment, his helmet turned from left to right, before locking on the adventurer's general kits.

This armored man continued his stride as he walked towards his destination. He knew all of the regulars, and this was not one of them, and he could see the porcelain tag hanging from the belt loop.

 _A newbie huh?_ His eyes scanned the armor, most of it looking of steel. He even walked with a sword and dagger at his hip, clearly accustomed to the weight of his blade.

He watched silently as the greenhorn he spoke to try to recruit him to his party, to no success. After that, the boy came to his counter, a round shield and a dungeoneers kit in hand.

Now closer, he could see that the armor was not steel, but a steel alloy. The helmet, right gauntlet, and right pauldron were made of a different metal entirely. Underneath the armor was leather, looking of some quality.

"How much debt did you get yourself into to get this?" The smith sarcastically stated while he looked at the new adventurer.

"None." He stated, reaching into a pouch on his side. "Here."

Placing onto the counter was an aged pouch with an embroidered flower on it. Less than a handful of gold coins spilled out as it leaned on its side.

"Made off with your mothers' purse? Perhaps your sisters?" He bit into the coin. _It's real._

The helmet turned to him before he spoke once more. "Yes. I did."

"Well." He was intrigued by the boy's blunt honesty. "You need anything else?"

"Do you have a lantern and a few daggers for throwing?"

"Yup." He walked to a box, bringing out a small bundle of daggers and a lantern, with it a flask of oil to burn. Swiping away at least a third of the coins from the table, he could see the face of the greenhorn behind him.

 _He thinks this is a ripoff._ He grunted. "Is that all?"

"Potions?" The helmet looked back up.

"Next time, get them from the receptionist." Pulling out one antidote and healing, he looked up at the adventurer. "How many?'

"Two of each." His helmet turned and pointed. "And that pouch."

"Good choice." He grunted as he the pouch on the counter. He had finished it today, and it would protect the contents like the potions from shattering. Such quality doesn't come cheap. "I see you're already planning ahead."

The man did not respond, silently looking down the counter again, only a single coin remaining.

"Is that all?"

"Yes." He put the coin back into the purse. "That is all."

…

He walked through the bust town, his slightly smaller targe on his left arm, and the rest of his gear on his back.

People parted as he walked, his heavily armed looks visibly concerning townsfolk, and drawing in the eyes of aspiring adventurers.

 _I've registered as an adventurer._ He felt the porcelain tag dangle at his waist.

 _I've accepted a quest._ He thought the quest map in its protective casing.

 _I've bought my equipment._ The tools he had were to be used for this endeavor.

**_I am a warrior now._ **

The sounds of leather squeezing could be heard as his fists clenched even tighter. The aura around him seemed to radiate the very essence of malice.

**I WILL SLAY GOBLINS _._**

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> I wanted to thank DeviantArt user 'kaiju1999' for the inspiration of this story!
> 
> Also, The Armorer here is also directly inspired by the one from the show!
> 
> If you didn't already know, I also have another story called 'Of Katarns and Goblins', which you should check out!
> 
> Be sure to leave a kudo and subscribe!
> 
> -Moonlight Talon of the Night


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